First of all: The following events were not that recently at all. It's a pretty old story. So I have no idea if the mission Toran went on still looks like this today. But usually people don't change that much, so...

Of course STO belongs to Perfect world and Star Trek to Paramount. I own nothing.

=A=

"Captain's log. Stardate 8... 9... high. The USS Sacrosanctus has received a distress signal from a nearby archeological site. They are under heavy pressure by a Romulan invasion fleet. But an addendum added, that the attack is not so heavy that we don't need to hurry and can arrive 20 minutes later. Or an hour... Let's say, every hour... or every time, whenever we come around to it. Well, this was a week ago. My timetable allows me to do the rescue mission today evening. I have ordered my First Officer to set a course before searching for a cup of coffee. I'm curious if we arrive within time."

=A=

The Andorian captain Ylaven Toran stepped onto the bridge of his Odyssey-cruiser and leisurely took place in the captain's seat. All consoles bleeped merrily, while eager crewmembers pushed random buttons. Nothing announced the upcoming threat.

"We arrived at the stated coordinates, Captain", his First Officer, the female Andorian Shelana, said.

"Very well. Is the fleet in position?"

"All ships report readiness. In the case that additional Romulan ships arrive, they will get a nasty surprise."

Captain Toran stroke his precisely cut white beard.

"I wonder, where are the ships which dropped their ground forces?

Commander Shelana shrugged:

"Away, cloaked, whatever. It doesn't really matter for it is a ground battle."

"How? It simply does matter! We have to lower shields to prepare the beaming process. What happens, if they decide to attack us in that moment?

"Don't worry, captain. This never happens", Shelana assured and waved him aside.

"And why, if I may ask?"
"Simply because they never ever attacked when the captain wasn't aboard."

Now Toran was curious and tilted his head.

"Why should I leave my ship? I'm the captain, right?"

"Yes, Sir, but... see, the other captains already beam down to the surface. Your attendance is needed!", Chief Engineer Than put in to relieve his fellow crew comrade.

"Ok then. If you insist like that, I'll lead the away team."

"Not this time, Sir, I'm sorry", Shelana replied while grounding her teeth, "Only commanding officers are allowed in this mission."

"I... wait. This is a ship of the Odyssey-class. A sister ship to the Enterprise-F! According to the manual, we have a required strength of 2500 Crewman, including hundreds of specialized security personnel, who eat such a bunch of Romulan raiders for breakfast. So why in the seven hells should two dozen commanding officers beam down into a warzone without any backup?"

Shelana lost her patience with the captain. She crossed her arms:

"Captain, transporter room 1 is waiting."

"Argh... alright!", the captain shouted.

He stood up resigning and marched to the turbolift.

"You know that you'll lead the next suicide mission, Commander", he announced shortly before the doors closed.

=A=

Minutes later Toran arrived at the platform, eyeing warily the Klingon disruptor rifle in the hands of the grinning transporter chief.

"What's this now?", he sighed.

"Doesn't it look familiar, capt'n? You acquired it in an away team mission three days ago."

"Yeah. But what's the point?"

"Uh. You should better take it, Sir", the chief replied without even thinking about it, "You shouldn't beam unarmed into a battle."

"I didn't intended to...", Toran began, foreseeing another discussion, "I just find it strange to put my life in the hands of this piece of crap I picked up out of the dirt. It didn't help its last owner, either."

The chief looked hurt, but he was still balancing the gun in his arms:

"We've analyzed the device. It's in a flawless condition and the technical specs are amazing."

"And what about the warranty? I prefer one of our proofed by government Federation phasers with guaranteed reliability of 75 years. You know, the kind of rifle of which hundreds of them gather dust in the armory."

"Yes, but this one is... better..."

"How much better can it be compared to a ray gun that shoots the same temperature as a blast furnace. Sometimes more is kind of an overkill."

The chief grumbled agreement, but still didn't intend to get a more fitting gun for his captain. At last Toran resigned again, took the disruptor and moved himself onto the transporter platform.

"Ah, just get it over with."

=A=

Only seconds later captain Ylaven Toran materialized with the new knowledge, that this mission is already going to stress him royally. Twenty-four starfleet captains gathered at the coordinates, everyone of them armored in irritatingly colorful cat suits, made of solid plastic.

"What the heck...", Toran stared into the crowd, while being the only one in a simple blue-black regular starfleet uniform.

An eight foot tall alien of undefined family tree stood on a rock and just tried to perform an uplifting speech. Logically, all his spectators ignored him to look after the source of Toran's terrified screech.

"Uh... I just wanted to say... what the heck, is this a view... so many high-ranking people crowding on one spot..."

They didn't believe him. He wouldn't have, either. However, the giant throated to get his attention back.

"Well, as I just wanted to say... we only need to defend the archeologists in the central pyramid. To accomplish that, we need to fight our way through the Romulan lines and..."

A deafening battle cry filled the air, shortly before all the captains fired their guns into the air and charged forward into the excavation site. When the dust had settled, only the startled giant and a frowning Toran remained.

"... and... and secure the area with stationary shield generators...", the big one finished his sentence with a voice, that somehow sounded years older.

"Shouldn't we better, say, beam them out or something? We could still clear the area of the Romulans afterwards. And it doesn't look like they installed any transport-jamming devices at all."

While saying this, Toran realized, that he dished out a lot of criticism that day. And if people don't like one thing, then it is to be corrected by him. The giant alien however looked rather lost than annoyed.

"You are right, but who are we captains to question the orders of starfleet command? By the way, who are you now?"

"Captain Toran, USS Sacrosanctus."

"It's a pleasure. My name is Neghnumpf, USS Heart-of-Gold."

"Nice. So, where are those shield generators?"

Neghnumpf pointed at a massive field container, right next to their drop point. Both of them grabbed one of the devices and girded them up as some kind of utterly ridiculous backpack.

"How many do we need to secure the pyramid?"

"Fourteen or something, distributed to strategically important positions. They are marked in our tricorders."

They marched to the nearest hill to get a better view about the situation. The massive stone construction was surrounded by a complex system of tunnels, where the scientists dug into earth to retrieve whatever they searched for. Amidst these dirty pits of mud, Remans, Romulans and colorful Powerrangers with starfleet logos fought for their lives.

"This is going to get tiresome work...", Toran sighed.

"Of course we need to gather some teams before it turns into utter chaos", Neghnumpf agreed.

"Too late for that, I fear...", Toran growled facing these would like Rambo's.

Both shrugged then and climbed down into the mess.

=A=

Toran's disruptor in rapid fire mode made short work out of the Romulan cannon fodder. And there was a lot of it. Wave after waver marched straight into the gunfire of both captains.

"I don't get it. Why do we all have personal shield generators while only a few of them seem to be able to afford them?"

"I wouldn't blame them", Neghnumpf replied, "After the destruction of Romulus, most of their military infrastructure is quite a mess."

"Wait... what?", Toran seemed perplexed while shooting straight into a bunch of Remans, "This is JJ-Trek? Where logic finally hit the ground?"

"Oh no. This is the Prime-universe. I'm sorry, Hobus-supernova happened here. Sadly."

"So. How does starfleet explains that Spock closely missed the rescue of Romulus, but gave Nero enough time to fully retrofit his ordinary mining vessel into this nanite-infested monstrosity while hanging around all the time amidst the catastrophe? How much time did Nero need? 12 seconds?"

"Huh, I always thought the Narada always looked like a porcupine", Neghnumpf replied startled while crushing a Romulan officer to mush with the butt of his rifle.

"No, I'm afraid not. The more a certain duo of... press officers... try to explain this mess, the more plotholes tear open. But enough of this. We need to concentrate on our mission."

"Agreed", mumbled the captain with uncertain family pedigree while continuing to shoot Romulans like clay pigeons.

=A=

Only a few crossroads later the two of them met someone who fully enjoyed this shooting gallery with all his heart.

"Captain Lokis!", Neghnumpf shouted out happily, "And I nearly thought I've lost the whole group."

"Negh? How's the mission going?", replied the Tellarite while wreaking havoc with his gatling-phaser (you've heard right, a goddamn gatling-phaser!).

"We just wanted to gather enough officers to take on the pyramid", Toran explained miserably about their lack of success so far.

"You know that the pointy-headed bastards are crowding there?"

"That's why we are here. We want to solve the mission and leave as early as possible. We are not here to stop their invasion single-handedly, even if we seem to be quite close to that right now."

"Ah. Ok, then I'll come with you. You seem to need every gun and this sounds like fun."

Toran waved into the direction of the pyramids.

"By the way: Where do they all come from? I'm pretty sure that we've killed 50-something enemies on our way to this point. Somewhere has to be a nest!"

"No, not really", Lokis explained casually, "Every time we clear one of the crossroads, this scum beams new reinforcements into our backs."

"Ha!", Toran shouted triumphant, "I knew it! Then we only need to detect their transporter signatures to trace them back to their cloaked fleet. With that information, our ships can destroy their Warbirds and shut down their supply lines. I still don't get it, why we aren't drowning in their reinforcements yet, if they still have plenty of soldiers up there, but I'm willing to forget that."

"Wow. This plan is... you... it doesn't work!", Lokis stuttered.

"Why that?", Toran groaned.

If he should hear again that this is conflicting with the orders of starfleet command, he would go on a killing spree, that was for sure...

=A=

Half an hour later Toran managed to calm himself down enough to regroup with Neghnumpf. In the meantime, the yellow giant seemed to have managed to gather five more captains for their cause. Shortly after their meeting, they stumbled over two more. A Bolian captain had rolled himself into fetal position, while a stunningly attractive Vulkan Amazon covered him against the attacking Romulans. Torans first view revealed some strange fortification they had made out of hovering plastic boxes. Toran had a bad feeling about this, before throwing himself behind the weird wall.

"What the heck is going on with this one?", he asked the Vulkan girl.

He saw, that the Bolian bobbed up and down and whimpered quietly while whispering unreasonable stuff about locked boxes and money-grabbing.

"Lobi-crystal-fever", the pointy-eared girl explained contritely, "More and more people are suffering recently."

While speaking, she sounded like a young male within his voice break, but Toran ignored that deliberately. Tolerance was still capitalized in the 25th century. The Bolian however seemed to have heard them, because he suddenly addressed Toran:

"Too... too many boxes... they are everywhere... too few... too expansive... keys... have none... need more... keys... boxes... everywhere... need to open them... but... too many... and... and... absolutely useless..."

"I don't understand", Toran replied helpless.

"The Romulans tried to dispose them illegally at the excavation site. We managed to catch them in the act and proceeded after Federation Environmental Constitution §47a and vaporized them until they were dead. The Star Empire most likely doesn't have much more use for this stuff than we have", the Vulcan lady continued.

"I'm sorry, I just understand klingon", Toran replied startled.
"Lobi-crystal is some kind of company. They are overflowing the galaxy with these locked boxes while causing unspeakable pollution."

"And what do they gain from it?"

"Curiosity. They hope that it can break any sane mind and people keep spending money for one-way-keys to open them. But when opened, they only find useless plunder."

"Why should anybody do that, then?"

"Because this company advertises the possibility that the lockboxes are containing whole ships of strange people."

"How big shall these ships be? Half a meter? Hell, why should anybody believe something like that?"
"Because they want to", the Vulkan finished gravely.

But Toran suddenly didn't listened anymore. He was hooked by an unknown curiosity. He activated his communicator:

"Toran to Sacrosanctus."

"Shelana here. What is it, captain?"

"I want to replicate one of these masterkeys. Are we able to do that?"

"Sure. But the license rights belong to the lobi-crystal-consortium. Shall we write it off your account?"

Because of a certain moneyless society in the 25th century, Toran's curiosity was damped down a bit.

"Uh... better not. Can we pawn something from the cargo hold instead?"

"Of course. There is a Dilithium exchange."

"Then do it. Sounds fair. I never got it why we should carry around 20000 tons of the crystals, anyhow."

"The key was replicated", Shelana announced at last.

"Beam it to my coordinates."

Seconds later, a tiny golden key materialized down to his feet.

"That's the reason for all this banter?", Toran looked puzzled while balancing it in his hand.

But he didn't resisted any further before surrendering to his curiosity. He removed one of the boxes from their improvised fortress and examined it closely. Opening it was pure routine, even if the lock was made to bite the head of the key off after turning it. After that Toran opened the top and wanted to find out, how the hell a whole spaceship could fit into this thing. But there was no space ship. Inside was only a small, cooing, hairy something.

"That's a joke, right?"

=A=

Toran was petting his brand-new Tribble incessant in order to calm down his frustration. Right now their number was increased to twelve and the excavation site was already behind them. Now they were facing the pyramid on the plain battlefield. This wasn't as dangerous as it sounds since they were all equipped with personal shield generators, ridiculously powerful guns and incredibly incompetent enemies.

"Alright, we should split up...", Neghnumpf proposed warily.

Toran also feared that they might never reunite again.

"... so we can systematically scour all the strategic positions for the field generators."

Everything else was easily managed. Captain Lokis took one half of the officers and went clockwise around the pyramid, Captain Neghnumpfs group including Toran took the other way around. They marched through the enemy lines in impressive speed, but were soon distracted when hearing a mournful whine from a rocky plateau nearby. The mission was immediately forgotten. They climbed the hill and scanned the area in an alarmed manner. But there was nothing to see. No starfleet officer, or more important, no bright Powerranger. Only an old, gnarled tree.

"I'm here!", the voice shouted, "Somebody help me already!"

The voice came out of the tree. Not until they drew closer, they finally noticed the poor soul of a Human captain, whose waist jutted out of bark.

"Yes, I'm stuck, damnit. Glad that you guys notice", he snapped.

"How the hell did you get there?", Toran frowned.
"On purpose. It looked like such a nice tree to dwell in, wisecracker. No seriously, I just wandered around and killed stuff and then it just happened. I have no idea whatsoever!", he paddled helplessly with his free arm to enforce the impression of his captivity.

"Very well, we need a plan to get him out of there", Neghnumpf addressed his team.

A Caitian captain (and I have as few knowledge about that race as you most likely have) stepped forward without a second to consider.

"See my plan!", he purred before drawing his phaser and shooting the guy in the tree.

"Ouch", the Human replied woefully, but without any further damage for some reason.

"Wow", Toran mocked, "Six members of 25th century space faring civilizations and this was seriously the first suggestion? Shooting him?!"

"Could have worked...", the Caitian grumbled.

"No, we can't because of... well... science, you know", interjected the Vulcan girl in her voice break, because she was in Neghnumpf's team, too, "But this doesn't work for the Romulans!"

"Yeah, let's get the Romulans!", replied the Caitian captain, shot into the air in agreement and jumped off the plateau.

The rest of the colorful Powerrangers with starfleet logos shrugged and followed. Only Toran stayed with the poor guy in the tree, quietly condemning the obviously failing requirement tests for Starfleet Academy.

"Do you really thing this is going to work?"

"Shooting you out of the tree? Of course not... but it will be entertaining.", Toran grinned fondling his Tribble.

"I was afraid so..."

Then Toran decided to walk to the edge of the plateau to watch his comrades search for a helpful Romulan patrol. And to not always have to look at the poor guy in the tree and how he began to remove shield generator and armor in order to help them as much as he could. Toran's Tribble cooed delightedly while he watched the bunch of captains returning. They obviously found some eager Romulans. Their enthusiasm was remarkably, though some of them were already gunned down by several leisurely shots by starfleet officers. But their endurance didn't keep up so much. When the captains arrived at Toran's position, every Romulan was dead and they left immediately to get another patrol.

"What do you think, how many attempts do they need to realize that they need to seize fire for not breaking the Romulans too early", Toran asked, but the guy in the tree only rolled with his eyes.

They did indeed realize it. Two butchered patrols later. Probably dead Romulans simply didn't looked quite as helpful as living ones. But even alive, they seemed reluctant to shoot the naked guy in the tree, while stubbornly ignoring the pile of corpses next to them. This time, the Caitian had the right idea. He poked the Human with the hilt of his phaser.

"Do I really have to?", the guy finally looked lost.

"Only if you want to grow roots. They need to feel threatened by you."

He took the phaser hesitating, but still aimed at a Reman infantrymen and blasted him into ashes anyway. His comrades noted the murderous tree as well as the sudden helplessness of the starfleet officers. They concentrated fire.

"Doesn't helping", hissed Neghnumpf, "They could as well fight with flashlights."

"Ouch... au... oh... uh... argh... not quite so...", the man in the tree had already dropped the phaser and squirmed with pain.

"Just a little bit patience.", the Caitian assured.

"I'll give you patience, catface!", the Human groaned.

Toran raised an eyebrow. Was it possible? Could the human fall out of the tree when gunned down? He still wished to know but he wasn't lucky this day. The human was nearly out when... the Romulans were vaporized by a gatling-phaser. Lokis shouldered his weapon proudly before ordering his team to move out.

"I just came in time, didn't I?"

He seemed to have no idea.

"Alright, I'm going to kill him", Neghnumpf announced and it needed three officers to stop him doing something he would regret later on.

"So much for that", Toran smirked to the tree he was leening to, but the man in it was already dematerializing.

"Beaming?", the Vulcan girl looked astonished, "Sure, why didn't we do that in first place?"

=A=

The pyramid loomed above them like an obvious signpost, put its stairs were an immense obstacle. Hundreds and hundreds of them, as well as an equal amount of Romulans, stood between them and the top. They had to climb level for level, install the field generators and move on to the next one. Toran himself got rid of his one at the very first spot. The thought came to him, that nothing stops the Romulans from removing it as long as the force field wasn't covering the whole building, but this time he decided to put it right into the hindmost edge of his brain. He followed the inexorable group of Rambos without further wisecracking.

It was an epic fight to the top. But only partly as epic as the great view onto the devastated archeological site. Toran concentrated on the thought, that their mission was nearly at an end.

"We just need to install the very last shield and we are out of here", Neghnumpf announced grinning.

Silence. No move whatsoever.

Apart from a few lost phaserbeams and distant explosions, you could have heard a chirping cricket.

The Romulans used that break to reform at their feet, but nobody was interested in that, because of Neghnumpf still struggling to express his anger.

"You... you are f***ing kidding me? You won't seriously admit that we made this long, bothersome march without anybody thinking to take the last shield generator? How are we supposed to take the top right now?"

At least there were a few team members with enough decorum to look at their feet. But most of them simply didn't care enough for even that much of participation.

"Ok, this isn't helping", Neghnumpf said to himself warily, "We should head back to the drop point. Fast and united!"

In that moment a sonic grenade rolled to his feet and blew up his argumentation. Even before thinking about any reaction, the Andorian Toran was also pulled out of his standardized starfleet boots. He had to watch hundreds and hundreds of Romulans climbing up the pyramid while lying helplessly on the ground. He tried to lift himself up to support the suppressed starfleet officers, but he only got himself straight into the crossfire and lost consciousness even before hitting the stone floor.

=A=

Ylaven Toran opened his eyes and saw the crème-colored ceiling of a starfleet ship. The Sacrosanctus. He was back, but he felt miserable and weird thoughts crossed his mind.

"Captain?", Shelana stood straight next to his bed, with an anxious expression on her face.

"I... I had a weird dream...", Toran started while pushing himself up, "I was on an away mission with a bunch of trigger-happy plastic soldiers and we were all killed."

"I'm sorry, sir, this really happened."

"Damned..."
"Don't worry, we were able to beam you out in time. You are in sick bay. Well, the mission pretty much failed, but you are still alive."

"I saw that, commander. But two hours of my life are wasted for no reason. Can we drown the Romulans in security officers, now at least?"

A rasping voice agreed somewhere at the door:

"My men are at your command, sir."

Toran saw the stranger but his brain needed a few seconds to classify the picture. It was a greyish blue skinned humaniod with numerous horns in is face, wearing a yellow starfleet uniform. He hinted Shelana to come closer to his biobed. She obeyed, so he was able whisper half startled, half disturbed, into her ear.

"What does the Dominion do onboard of my ship?", he asked, probably a little bit too sharp.

"That's Lieutenant Commander Kudak'Ika. He's the new Chief of Security"; Shelana explained as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"What the... I was so close to start the intruder alert. How does a Jem'Hadar get into starfleet?"

Shelana shrugged.

"Officer exchange program?"
"You do that for purpose, don't you?"

=A=

"Captain's log, stardate 89322,5928. Our last adventure left me deeply worried. The condition of starfleet is unbearable. Starfleet captains are a bunch of trigger-happy bandits, our equipment consists of random leftovers and a Ferengi consortium tries to press money from a moneyless society. I think it is necessary to send an essay about this to Starfleet Command to reveal this terrible state of affair. The chance of success might be small, but it is essential to act in memory of the golden times of Federation. Meanwhile, USS Sacrosanctus will continue to explore the infinite space and hopefully perform more successful missions. We are probably doing one time travel or two. Or set up trade treaties with primitive peoples by offering glass beads... uh... I mean basic supplies. We could also slaughter some Borg to nail their technology onto the ship. Just a few things you do in 25th century. Yeah, I'm afraid so... End of log entry."

The end

=A=

If Toran and his adventures happened to entertain you and you speak German, I recommend paying my account on fanfiktion . de a visit. This story got a sequel with "Neulich, als STO und TOR aufeinander stießen", where Toran strands on a "Star Wars: The old Republic" server and clashes with my Sith character over there.